


Girlfriends

by ace



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-22
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-03-19 01:41:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3591555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ace/pseuds/ace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You called me your girlfriend."<br/>"No, I didn't."<br/>"Yes, you did."<br/>"I never said that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Root was grinning. "You called me your girlfriend."

Shaw shook her head. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did, Sameen. I heard you." Root couldn't dim her smile if she tried.

"I never said that." Shaw scowled and tried to walk away.

Root followed like a lost puppy, unwilling to escape Shaw's orbit. It was rare that Shaw let anyone close enough to get trapped in it in the first place, after all.

"I believe the words were…" Root bit her lip to keep herself from smiling too widely, and then proceeded to do a horrible, exaggerated impression. " _Hands off my girlfriend, asshole._ "

Shaw spun on her heel to glare at Root. "What the fuck was that?"

"My impression of you." Root's eyes sparkled.

"I will end you, Root," said Shaw dangerously, voice hitting a low note that made Root's eyes glaze over.

They locked gazes, and then Root darted a tongue out over her lips.

"Please do."

It broke the spell. Shaw tore her eyes away and took a step backwards.

"Let's leave. I'm hungry."

"I have something you could eat."

Again, Shaw felt her homicidal rage flare up.

Root seemed to sense it, and quickly added, "Sandwich place on Fifth? The Machine's already put our order in. They'll have it ready for us by the time we arrive."

Letting her fury abate, Shaw eyed Root and let out a grunt of agreement.

Smiling, pleased with how she handled the situation, Root led the way. She jumped onto her motorcycle and patted the seat behind her while putting on her helmet.

"So, girlfriend…" Root began and Shaw groaned and climbed on.

"Shut up, Root."

Shaw put her arms around her midriff, squeezing tightly. A little  _too_  tightly.

Root coughed, shifting in her seat. "Ooh, handsy. I like it."

"Just drive," Shaw growled.

"Whatever my girlfriend says," Root sing-songed before gunning the engine.

Her words resulted in a hit to the stomach, but it was worth it.

She was going to eat lunch with her girlfriend.

Life was good.


	2. Chapter 2

"What the hell was that?" hissed Shaw to Root as she pulled her aside into a narrow alleyway.

"What?" Root said with faux innocence. She rubbed the back of her head, having bumped it on the brick wall behind her.

Narrowing her eyes, Shaw didn't believe her act for a second. "Come off it, Root. You know what you're doing."

"I'm not doing anything, Shaw."

"Oh, yeah? You threatened to  _kill_  her. We're supposed to be getting close to the number, not scaring her away."

Root met her eyes squarely and didn't say anything to defend herself. It was true, after all.

"Sorry, Sam," she breathed out after a while of Shaw staring expectantly at her.

"For nearly blowing our cover or for acting like a jealous girlfriend?"

Root looked to the side. She knew she had to reign her feelings in. Shaw didn't appreciate it when things like emotions got in the way of the mission.

"Hey," Shaw said, bringing Root's attention back to her. "We talked about this before. Back at HQ."

"I know."

"In a minute we'll go back out there and try again, alright? And you will keep your hands to yourself and let me do my thing."

"Sounds like a plan."

Shaw still wasn't satisfied that Root wouldn't be causing any more problems, so she tried a different angle.

"And afterwards…" she continued, her words carefully pronounced, "we'll buy food and alcohol with Finch's cards, head to my place and we can watch that stupid Westworld show you like while we eat dinner and get drunk. You can even stay the night if the Machine doesn't have anything else planned for you."

"She doesn't." Root's back straightened and the light returned to her eyes as she stared at Shaw in wonderment. 'Even if she did,' Root didn't say, 'I'd ignore Her for you.'

"Good."

They stared at each other for a few moments, the alleyway's narrowness meaning they were pressed closely together.

Root could sense time ticking away acutely, feel the warmth of Shaw's breath wash over her lips and hear the Machine remind her that their number was about thirty seconds away from coming back.

And then she could feel Shaw rise up slightly on her toes to press a hard kiss against her mouth, hands pulling her closer. Felt heat blossom in her chest. And then Shaw pushing herself away, straightening the black dress clinging to her body and striding out to meet the number.

Root let out a breath, slumping back against the wall as she watched Shaw walk away.

Her girlfriend was going to kill her one day, Root was sure.

She was also sure there'd be no better way to go.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where've you been?"

"Most recently? Malta."

Dropping her backpack onto a nearby chair, Root removed her scarf and shook out her wavy brown hair.

Shaw picked herself up from the floor with catlike grace, placing the gun she had been cleaning aside.

"It's been three weeks."

Furrowing her brows, Root did a mental calculation in her head. "No, it hasn't. It's been four?"

"Four weeks since you went away, yeah." Shaw stalked forward. "The three weeks is how long it's been since I've  _heard_  from you, Root."

Root looked away. "I don't want to do this right now." She walked past Shaw to the bathroom, where she started compulsively washing her hands.

The hot water was scalding her skin, but it still didn't work. Root could still feel the blood on her hands, the lives she had taken. Half a dozen people had died before she realised what she was doing—inadvertently killing for the Machine— and refused to listen any longer. Now, in the aftermath, she was left with herself.

And she could barely stand it.

"What happened over there?" asked Shaw, concern belying her hard tone. Her eyes scanned Root's frame for injuries.

Root knew there was none to be found. It wasn't her outside that was broken.

"I'm not a good person." She sat down heavily on Shaw's bed, one of the few pieces of furniture in the apartment. Her limbs felt like jelly and she was tired. So tired.

"Most people aren't."

"Most people aren't killers."

Shaw looked angry all of a sudden, the thought occurring to her. "Did the Machine…?" she practically growled, and if the Machine was a real person, Root would've warned Her to hide. Shaw looked like she wanted to find Her and beat Her up.

Root shook her head. "I should've realised sooner, but I didn't question it. I never question her orders. And then people were dying, Shaw: freak accidents. Accidents  _She_  had me orchestrate."

"How many?"

"Six, plus however many else."

Shaw sat next to Root. "Are you gonna tell Finch?"

"I don't see the point."

"He would want to know."

Root nodded, accepting the advice and feeling better in Shaw's proximity.

Shaw shuffled closer to Root until their thighs were touching.

Root tilted her head down and Shaw jutted her chin up so they were facing each other. "Don't do that again," she ordered.

"Do what?"

"Not speak to me for weeks. We're together, Root. You owe me contact now, at least."

A small smile tugged at Root's lips, breaking through the remorse that previously encased her. "I didn't know you felt that way, Sameen."

"Yeah, well…" Shaw's eyes turned to the ceiling. There was a pregnant silence as she thought back to the last three weeks, how she had gotten progressively grumpier each passing day with no word from Root.

("I'm sure Ms. Groves is fine," Finch tried to reassure her.

("Missing your girlfriend?" Reese would say.

("Let me guess: Cocoa Puffs is still AWOL," Fusco grumbled the other day after Shaw sent another death glare his way, the fourth in a half hour period.)

"…I thought you were dead." The words left Shaw's mouth unwittingly.

Feeling her breath catch, Root stared into Shaw's unrelenting eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

"Just talk to me next time, okay? Let me know if you're alive. I know I'm not the most chatty, but you can still tell me about things, if that makes you feel better. That'd be good, right? You'd be less distracted and can focus more on the mission."

Root wanted to laugh at Shaw's reasoning. "Exactly, Sam. So I can focus more on the mission."

Shaw scowled, unsure why Root was laughing at her. "What?"

"Nothing." Root shook her head and looked at her adoringly. "You're just… I really love…"

Raising an eyebrow, Shaw waited for Root to finish her sentence.

"…being your girlfriend," finished Root.

Shaw rolled her eyes. She tugged Root closer to her by the lapels of her leather jacket and brought their faces close together. "Eh, I find it alright."

Root looked at her with faux offense. "You break my heart."

"Really? I can hear it pumping away just fine."

"I can't help it, Sameen. A pretty lady is roughhousing me. A girl can't help getting a little excited…"

And with that, the last of Shaw's patience reserves were depleted. She kissed Root to prevent her from coming up with any more stupid lines.

The could talk more later. For now, there was the matter of four weeks to make up for.


	4. Chapter 4

Root walked into the Library to see a young, curly fair-haired girl sitting atop Finch's desk, kicking her feet as she played fetch with Bear.

"Hello," Root announced her presence with a smile and questioning eyebrow as she moved into the room.

The girl's eyes darted to hers. "You're not Shaw. Who are you?"

"I'm a… friend of hers. Why are you looking for her?"

The girl frowned. "She's supposed to be looking after me this weekend. Mr Finch left earlier; something about a sandwich and a bribe? Anyway, do you know if she's coming?"

"She's on the way." At least, that's what the Machine told her, with an ETA of seven minutes. "What's your name?"

Root normally wouldn't have had to ask, but She wasn't divulging. Apparently Root had to find out for herself.

"You're Root, aren't you?" the girl asked instead of answering. She jumped down from the desk and stood up properly to assess her. After a few moments, she gave her verdict. "I thought you'd be uglier."

Mouth twisting up in amusement, Root couldn't help but ask, "Shaw's talked about me?"

"If by talking you mean complaining, then yes.  _All the time._ "

Root grinned. "That's… still good. Your name doesn't happen to be Genrika, does it?"

"It's just Gen." Gen's eyes narrowed. "How'd you know?"

"The same Gen that gave her the Order of Lenin?"

Perking up, Gen asked, "She kept it?"

"It's on her bedside table."

Gen grinned knowingly. "I knew she wasn't a robot."

Bear was running around them, wanting attention. Root knelt down and picked up the ball he dropped at her feet. She chucked it down the hallway.

"Definitely not a robot," Root murmured, thinking about all the times Shaw had inadvertently shown she cared.

Shaw chose that moment to arrive, silently appearing until her tangible presence drew both Gen and Root's eyes towards her.

She was standing there, looking suspiciously between the two of them. Bear trotted over and Shaw leant down to stroke him without breaking eye contact.

"What're you guys doing?"

"Nothing," Root said, the way children did when they were definitely up to something.

"I'm just getting to know your _girlfriend_ , Shaw," said Gen.

As soon as the 'g' word left Gen's mouth, Root flinched. "I didn't say anything," she said pre-emptively before Shaw could turn murderous eyes on her.

Gen coughed. "You weren't exactly subtle either. No offence, Root, but you'd make a terrible spy."

Root chose not to comment on that, on the off-chance that her voice would set Shaw off.

" _Root_. Can I speak to you alone?"

"I—yes, Sameen."

There weren't many situations Root would describe as scary, but facing an angry Shaw was definitely one of them.

"I don't see what the problem is," Gen called out before they could walk out of earshot. "I think you guys are cute."

Oh,  _no_. Root stopped walking, closing her eyes.

Gen really shouldn't have said that.

Whirling around, Shaw's voice dropped down to a deadly level. "What. Did. You. Just. Say?"

"I think… you guys… are cute?" Gen's voice shook slightly.

"She didn't mean that," Root said quickly, deciding to step in before Shaw blew up. "Right, Gen?" Raised eyebrows implored her to say yes.

"What Root said." Gen laughed nervously. "I take it back. You're not cute. Bear's cute, but not you guys, Nope." At that, the dog barked happily. "You guys are cool and badass… and I'll just go to the bathroom. Yep. Gotta pee. Sorry, Shaw."

When they were alone, Shaw crossed her arms, looking distressed and a little traumatised. "She called us  _cute_ , Root."

Root tilted her head to the side. "We are pretty cute though, aren't we?"

Shaw turned betrayed eyes onto her. "Take that back."

"Would it be so bad?"

"Take it back, Root, or I swear to God…"

Eyes dropping nervously to Shaw's hand flexing on her gun, Root held her arms up. "It's back. I've taken it."

Shaw eyed her, disbelieving.

"To be honest, I'd say we're more hot than cute anyway."

"We'll be more _nothing_ if you keep saying that word."

Root mimed zipping her mouth shut. Point taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some angst ahead.


	5. Chapter 5

"What the fuck are you doing here, Root?"

Shaw walked into her apartment to see her ex-girlfriend standing by the window, despite the fact that she changed the locks. Not that the lack of a key had stopped Root from breaking in the first time.

Root turned towards Shaw, moonlight illuminating her features. "I was in the neighbourhood."

The two women stared at each other from across the room, years of being together and a messy break up between them.

Sixth months on and it still felt like yesterday when they split up. It didn't help that their work overlapped and they had to see each other more frequently than either would have preferred.

"What do you want?" Shaw asked again, impatient as she kicked off her boots and started unstrapping the various guns holstered to her body.

"I did some research on your new girlfriend. I don't like her, Shaw. She's hiding something, and the Machine agrees."

Shaw paused, fury creeping into her eyes. "I don't have a girlfriend. And even if I did, it'd be none of your business."

"Lucy, fuck buddy, whatever you want to call her." Root waved a hand in the air and Shaw was tempted to break it.

"If you don't leave in the next thirty seconds, I will shoot you, Root." Her finger twitched on the trigger of her handgun.

Root didn't even blink at the threat. "She's up to something. I just wanted to let you know."

"You lost the right to let me know anything when we broke up."

"You pushed me away," Root said quietly, and felt her own anger rise. "Why did you push me away, Shaw? We were so good together. I was happy. I thought you were, too…"

"You thought wrong."

Shaw didn't want to talk about this any more. She stormed over to her door and opened it, waiting for Root to leave.

Of course it was never that easy.

Root walked over to the door, but didn't leave. She grabbed Shaw's face and brought her mouth down to hers.

Maybe it was because of the late hour or because Shaw hadn't felt right in six months, not really, but Shaw kissed her back, letting Root press her up against the door and then flipping their positions.

Only when their skin was bruised, lips swollen and their breaths were coming in harsh pants did they pull away and look at each other.

"I missed you," Root said, feeling like she was stating the obvious.

Shaw stumbled backwards, needing the distance to clear her head and rearranging the tank top that Root had started to push up.

"Leave," commanded Shaw in the tense silence, not looking at her.

She could feel Root's gaze heavy on her profile for what felt like an eternity, and then Root nodded. She grasped the door handle and exited without a word.

Shaw double checked to make sure the door was locked, then took a scalding hot shower to wash Root's presence away.

Some part of her hoped it would stop her chest from aching too.

This was why she didn't do relationships. Shaw couldn't feel like normal people did and it always blew up in the end.

She thought maybe Root was different. Root knew what she was getting herself into.

But Root was the same. She was only human, after all. When she said, "I love you," one Tuesday night, Shaw knew she couldn't say it back. Not truthfully.

And Shaw cared enough about Root to know she didn't deserve that.


	6. Chapter 6

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" asked their teenage number, Lena, wincing as Shaw started to sew up her wound.

Root snorted and looked over from her post at the door, watching the high school corridor for any incoming people. "Shaw's an expert. She was nearly a doctor, you know."

"Nearly? What happened?"

"Poor bedside manner," Shaw said flatly. "Got kicked off. Any other questions or do you wanna sit still and let me do this undistracted?"

The number gulped, face pale from blood loss. "Is this going to scar?"

Rolling her eyes, Shaw didn't deign the question worth responding to.

Root smirked at the girl. "Don't worry. Shaw's _excellent_  with her fingers."

Shaw levelled Root with an unamused look. Glancing back down at her work, she spoke to the girl. "Root would know. I've had to patch her up more than once. You'd think she liked getting shot."

"Or maybe I liked the treatment," Root said.

"Or maybe I should just shoot you."

"Nice one, Shaw. Do you say that to all the girls or just to me?"

Lena interrupted, glancing curiously between the two of them. "Do you guys spend a lot of time together? Saving people and getting shot at?"

"Not so much recently," Root answered.

"Which is already too much time together, if you ask me," Shaw said.

"But we used to," Root volleyed back, wanting to annoy Shaw.

"Not by choice," Shaw corrected. "She kidnapped me one time."

Lena's eyes were getting progressively wider as the verbal tennis match continued and new information was revealed.

Root raised an eyebrow at Shaw. "I don't recall holding a gun to your head to go steal a jet in Alaska."

"You were on a motorcycle, promising potential violence. That was basically bribery. Again: no choice."

Shaw pulled the last stitch through perhaps more roughly than would be advised and cut the thread with her teeth.

Spotting Root watching from the corner of her eyes, Lena decided all the angsty and erotic tension in the room was too much for her. She tried to stand up. "Is that all? Can we go now? I think I'm feeling better already."

Shaw glared at her. "Sit down, kid. You're not finished."

Lena stilled and let Shaw finish up, and then darted out of the room as soon as possible, leaving Root and Shaw to trade glances.

'What's wrong with you?' Shaw said with her eyes.

'What's wrong with _you_?' Root's eyes replied.

Shaw broke eye contact first, grabbing her things and stalking off in the direction Lena had run off too.

Letting out a sigh, Root ran a hand over her face and through her hair. Breathing deeply, she followed after them, hoping they could wrap up the mission sooner rather than later. For both of their sakes.

Working with an ex-girlfriend was exhausting, to say the least.

 

* * *

 

When Shaw and Root caught up to their number around the corner, Lena was getting told off by the principal.

Lighting up when she saw them, Lena turned to the round, suited man and said, "Look, there they are now, sir! My moms."

Slowing their steps, Root made a split second decision. She grabbed Shaw's hand and intertwined their fingers, ignoring Shaw's initial resistance.

She saw Shaw hiding her guns behind her back and plastered a smile on her face as they approached the principal.

"Hi, Mr. Thomas. We were just signing Lena out from the infirmary."

"I see," the man said, surveying them suspiciously. "Sorry about that. I thought Lena here was up to no good. She looked like it. Is that blood?" he asked, eyeing the banadage peeking out from Lena's top.

Root followed his line of sight and laughed. "Oh, yes, that. Nothing to worry about. Just a fall. That's our Lena—clumsy! I think she gets it from my wife here." Root nudged Shaw's shoulder with her own, ignoring the dirty look Shaw gave her in return: clenched jaw, narrowed eyes and a painfully forced smile that promised later retribution. "We'll take her home now, if that's okay with you?" Root fluttered her eyes at the principal.

He straightened his tie. "Yes, that should be okay. I'll see you on Monday, Lena. It was a pleasure meeting you two."

"And you as well." Root smiled and then subtly nudged Shaw's side.

"Same," Shaw said through clenched teeth, feeling eyes turned on her expectantly.

The principal didn't move, so they had to be the ones to walk away.

Root took the few moments walking down to the end of the corridor to contemplate Shaw's hand in hers. She revelled in the warmth of her palm against hers and the rough callouses on Shaw's hands. It wasn't a familiar touch, even though they had dated for over a year. Holding hands wasn't something they typically did.

And then the hand was being roughly snatched back by its owner, Shaw wiping her palm on the front of her trousers with a disgusted look on her face as soon as the principal was out of sight.

"Me? Clumsy?" she asked Root furiously.

"What? I didn't see you contributing to our cover."

"You're clumsier than I am. I was the former Marine here, and you're a—what, computer hacker?"

"I know, Shaw. I read your file, remember? And you didn't have to say that so derogatively."

Lena stared at them oddly as they continued arguing, deliberating. They walked out of the high school, Root and Shaw walking closely together despite their apparent animosity.

She spotted their hands brushing against each other, and the way Root and Shaw's eyes would soften when they thought the other wasn't looking; saw the fond nostalgia that appeared always chased by pain and then their walls being thrown up again.

She wondered what had happened there, and wished they would sort it out and get back together. (It was totally obvious they dated in the past. Lena wasn't blind.)

Smiling to herself, she was pleased to have gotten her new ship to act like a couple, even if it was just for a few minutes.

It was a job well done, if she said so herself.


	7. Chapter 7

When somebody knocked on her door at ten in the evening, Shaw already knew who it was.

For one thing, she hadn't ordered any food. Secondly, only three people knew her actual address and would have any business with her. Two of them, Reese and Finch, she had said goodbye to not even an hour ago. That left Root.

Seeing the familiar head of brown hair through the peephole confirmed her suspicions. Sighing, she opened the door, despite the very real temptation to just walk away and leave her standing there.

"I went on a date," were the first words out of Root's mouth. Eyes focussing when she looked up, Root grinned at the sight of her. "Hi, Shaw," she said cheerfully. "Can I come in?" When Shaw stayed silent and just stared at her impassively, Root added, "I'll be good, I promise."

Feeling the need to massage her temples, Shaw stepped aside anyway. "Why are you here, Root?"

Wrapping her arms around herself, Root tried to take a step forward, but ended up stumbling instead. Moving automatically to stabilise her, their proximity allowed Shaw to notice the alcohol on her breath, and how her speech was slightly slurred.

"Are you drunk?" Shaw's eyes narrowed.

"Maybe a little bit," Root said. Rolling her eyes, Shaw placed a hand on Root's shoulder to sit her down on her bed and moved to retrieve a glass of water and some bread.

"Drink," Shaw instructed, passing the items off to Root, "and then eat this."

"Thanks," Root mumbled into her glass. She got through most of it before lowering it and sitting there quietly, staring at the wall opposite them.

"Why are you here?" asked Shaw again, tone lacking its previous bite.

Root placed her glass down. "I should go." She tried to stumble to her feet, causing Shaw to glare until she stopped moving.

"You're not going out like this," said Shaw. "Do you even have a place to stay?"

"The Machine—She'll give me one." Root nodded to herself as if reassuring herself of the fact and Shaw rolled her eyes.

"You're already here. Just sleep on my bed."

"What about you?"

"The floor is fine." Shaw had slept in worse places, and for some reason she wasn't willing to let Root leave. Not while she was clearly hammered. The Machine probably would have looked out for her, but Shaw wasn't about to let an artificial superintelligence be responsible for taking care of her girlfriend.

Ex.

Ex-girlfriend.

"No." Root pouted. "I'll sleep on the floor. You sleep on your bed."

"You're drunk, Root."

"Am not," Root slurred.

Shaw gave up on arguing the point, changing the subject instead. "Eat your bread," she ordered.

Root brought a piece to her lips and chewed, looking at Shaw until she nodded in approval. Vaguely amused at how ridiculous Root was being, Shaw got a bottle of beer and brought it to her lips, determined to enjoy it despite her presence.

"How's Lucy?" Root asked after about twelve seconds of silence.

Shaw shrugged. "Wouldn't know. Haven't seen her in a while."

"Oh." Root tried to play it cool, but her bright tone undermined her attempt. After a few moments, her smile faded and she revealed, "I didn't want to go on the date."

Shaw tensed. "I don't care."

"Harold made me go," Root continued as if she hadn't heard Shaw's declaration, or more likely, heard it but chose to ignore it. "He said it would be good for me, to help me… get over you."

Nodding past the lump in her throat, Shaw agreed. "Yeah, Finch has good ideas sometimes."

"It didn't help," Root said desperately. "Or maybe, I didn't want to be helped. I'm sorry, Sam. I don't want to get over you."

Shaw stood up when Root looked like she was on the verge of crying. "We should sleep," she suggested uncomfortably. She couldn't do this right now. Or ever.

"Okay. I'll sleep on the floor."

"Don't be an idiot." She shook her head and pushed Root's compliant body so she was lying down. "Remove your shoes. And jacket."

Doing as she was told, Root curled up under Shaw's covers.

Shaw got ready for bed and then sighed, deciding to lay down next to her. As willing as she was to sleep on the floor, it had been a long day and there was plenty of space on her bed. Besides, it was just Root. And Shaw had a record of trusting her, despite the many instances that should have warned her not to.

"Goodnight, Root."

Root looked at her with shiny eyes. "Goodnight, Sameen. I love you."

Shaw froze. "Root…" she started.

"I know." Root closed her eyes and turned away. "You don't love anyone, except maybe the dog. It's okay. Whatever you feel is enough."

There was quiet after that, their breaths and the hum of the refrigerator the only sounds in the apartment.

Shaw waited for Root's breathing to even out before even considering drifting off, and tried to ignore the regret creeping into her veins.

Sleep didn't come easily.

 

* * *

 

Waking up five minutes before her alarm, Shaw tried to get up, but Root's arm was slung over her midriff.

"Root." 

"Mmm?" Root groaned as she was lightly jostled.

"You can let go now."

Opening her eyes, Root took in the situation before snatching her arm back and rolling away to lie on her stomach. "Sorry, Shaw."

Rolling her eyes, Shaw got up and walked over to her sink to get ready.

Getting up moments later, Root put her boots and jacket on, wincing at the sunlight streaming through the blinds. She retrieved a pair of aviators from her pocket and wore them, despite it looking ridiculous inside.

Hearing no further activity, Shaw glanced over and saw the pained look on Root's face as she tried to rack through her brain for memories.

"You look constipated," Shaw said bluntly.

"Yeah." Root offered a weak smile and cleared her throat. "I should get going."

"Where are you headed?"

"She wants me to go to Peru." 

Shaw nodded. "Have fun." _Be safe_.

"Always."

Root stepped towards the door. Before she could leave entirely, Shaw called out her name. She almost regretted it when Root turned around to look at her expectantly. 

The words from last night reverberated in Shaw's head.  _I love you. You don't love anyone, except maybe the dog. It's okay. Whatever you feel is enough._ _  
_

"Yes, Sameen?"

Swallowing, Shaw didn't know where to start. So she started with a truth. "You deserve the best of everything."

Root took the words like a punch in the gut, closing her eyes for a few moments to get her bearings. Her mouth twisted up in a bitter smile.

Eyes opening, she met Shaw's gaze squarely. "That’s what I had."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last two lines of dialogue from the 5x03 Paily scene in PLL. :)


	8. Chapter 8

"What's their name?"

"What?" Root laughed. 

"The person you're hung up on."

Root glanced at her. "I'm not…"

"I'm not stupid." Nora grinned and shrugged. "Anyway, I just want to know in advance, in case the name you'll be screaming when I make you come isn't mine." Root looked at her, mouth falling open slightly. Nora laughed. "Don't look at me like that. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened to me."

Root closed her mouth. The start of a grin began to overtake her face. "You're pretty confident," she said and Nora raised an eyebrow. 

"You don't like it?" she asked. 

"I don't know yet."

"Okay, good." Nora smiled at Root, an easy expression. All her emotions were plain to see on her face and Root wasn't used to it. Nora continued, gradually moving closer, "We can work with that."

Cupping her face, Nora kissed her. It took a few moments for Root to kiss back. 

And when she did, she could almost forget about Shaw. 

Almost. 

*

Root liked Nora. She did. 

Nora was easygoing and nice. She actually said what she felt.

She wasn't Shaw. 

And maybe that was okay.

*

"Ms. Groves! Nice to see you."

"Hello, Harry."

"It's been a while," Finch observed, looking at her from above his glasses. "How have you been? What have you been up to?"

Root smiled at him. "All in good time, Harold. All in good time." Placing a laptop she had gone to considerable lengths to retrieve on his desk, she told him it was a gift from the Machine and then turned to leave. 

Only to see Shaw walking around the corner into the subway station, Bear trotting behind her on a leash. 

"Hey," Shaw said quietly, step faltering when she saw Root standing there.

"Hi," Root said, breath leaving her.

They stared at each other, the awkwardness in the room growing tenfold with each passing second. 

"I, um—"

"Should probably—" 

They attempted to speak at the same time, stopping simultaneously as well. 

Shaw eventually cracked a smile. Root smiled back, and couldn't help laughing a little. "Hi, Sameen," she started again. "Long time no see."

"Yeah." Shaw looked at her happily, or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Root's part. "Two months. You, uh, look good. Which is good." Shaw nodded to herself awkwardly and Root couldn't stop herself from smiling at her. 

She was cute. 

Not that Root would ever say that out loud. She still remembered when Gen had accidentally called them that… never again. 

"Thanks, Shaw," Root said brightly, "and you look as… good as ever." She took in Shaw's black trousers and black tank top—the summer months meant she wasn't wearing anything over it, which Root was grateful for since she could see the flexing of Shaw's arm muscles—and brought her gaze back up to see Shaw looking at her with a raised eyebrow. "Sorry," she said, grinning unapologetically.

Shaking her head at her, Shaw crouched down to unhook Bear's leash. The dog came running forward to greet Root. 

"Are you hungry?" Shaw asked as she watched Root try to avoid getting licked in the face. 

"For?" 

"Food. What else?" 

Root raised an eyebrow, causing Shaw to glare at her. Smirking, Root had to glance down for a moment. It was still too easy to fluster Shaw, and Root loved getting a reaction from her. Looking up again, she confirmed, "I haven't had lunch yet."

"Cool." A smile grew on Shaw's face. "They opened this new place downtown. It's not too far from here. We could walk."

"Sounds interesting."

"It is," insisted Shaw. 

"I wasn't being sarcastic." Anything that interested Shaw interested Root… unless it was Reese's friendship. Root didn't care much for that. 

Shaw looked at her. "Of course you weren't." 

Root smiled to herself as they walked side by side down the street. She had missed this. 

And from the way Shaw glanced at her from the corner of her eye, a faint smile tugging at her own lips, Root thought that maybe, just maybe, Shaw had missed it too.

*

"Your phone's been ringing," Shaw informed Root as she returned from the toilets. Shaw sucked her fruity cocktail into her mouth and looked at Root strangely when she didn't answer it. "You gonna get that? This Nora chick really wants to talk to you."

Root looked down at her screen again. It stopped ringing and a text came through, reading: "Hey, babe. How was your errand? Do you wanna meet up later? I tried calling you. xx"

Glancing up at Shaw, it was clear she had read the message as well. 

"New girlfriend?" Shaw said, the phrase sounding more like a statement than a question. "I thought—never mind. That's good. I'm happy for you." Jaw clenching, she looked away. Bypassing the straw, she lifted her drink to her mouth, drained the rest of it and took her wallet out, not waiting for a reply. "I gotta go," she said, voice devoid of emotion. "See you in another two months, or something."

Putting money on the table, she exited the booth. 

"Shaw…" Root said, but she didn't know what else to say. 

Shaw looked back at her one last time, waiting for Root to finish her sentence, but Root said nothing. 

So Shaw nodded to herself, and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way, thanks to everyone for reading, clicking kudos/subscribe, commenting and putting up with my writing. ❤️


	9. Chapter 9

Finch wondered if he should say something.

Shaw had returned thirty minutes ago, sans Root. She had sat down with Bear for a while, and then started cleaning her favourite guns with robotic movements. Although she was paying meticulous attention to what she was doing, her mind was clearly a world away.

Just when Finch thought this was how the rest of the afternoon was going to pass—tense, palpable silence—Shaw placed the gun she was holding on the ground and let out a short exhale.

"How long?" she asked Finch, looking frustrated at herself for caring, and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling before he could meet hers.

"How long what, Ms. Shaw?" asked Finch, turning his chair around to give her his undivided attention. He had an inkling of what Shaw was talking about, linking it to Root's absence, but couldn't be sure and was wary of overstepping his boundaries.

Shaw looked at him as if he was slow for not immediately picking up on what she was referring to. Nails digging into her palms, she gritted out the question, "How long has Root been dating this Nora chick?" Dark eyes met Finch's, demanding the truth. "Did you know about her?"

Leaning back in his chair, Finch let out a thoughtful noise. "Nora? The name rings a bell."

"And?"

He started cleaning his glasses uncomfortably. "Root first mentioned her about a month ago, when she called to check in. A new friend, she said. Persistent. Perhaps that's why she let Nora become close to her… God knows she's turned down everyone else who's expressed an interest, and there's been many, since…" Suddenly occurring to him that he was speaking to Shaw, he looked at her with a guilty expression and got back on topic. "But no, I didn't know Root had started seeing someone."

Shaw tore her gaze from his and looked down at her lap, fingers flexing uselessly for a moment, not knowing what to do with the information. She didn't know what she expected—it didn't make her feel any better. Instead, her imagination was whirring loudly, images striking her like blows to the gut.

Her nails must've been drawing blood now, from how hard her fists were clenched.

Finch speaking brought her back to the present, and she forced her body to unwind, pushing her thoughts away.

"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I was under the impression that you broke things off with Root, not the other way around… yet you appear to be troubled by this."

“I’m not troubled.”

“Then why does it matter who she’s dating?”

"She loves me, Finch."

Blinking, he opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't think of anything thing to say. The news itself wasn't surprising—he had gathered as much, long ago—but the fact Shaw had spoken about it out loud had taken him aback.

"I don't _love_ people," Shaw continued, shaking her head. "I barely like them. Not in the way normal people love, not in the way Root does. I just don't have it in me."

Finch resolved himself to the role he found himself thrust in again: couples counsellor. "Did you talk to her about this?" he asked, resisting the urge to correct her usage of the phrase 'normal people'—there was no such animal, and especially not in their ragtag group of friends.

"She knows." Shaw recalled a Tuesday night when Root had found herself at her apartment, drunk, with soft eyes and words she hadn't been able to get out of her head for months. "'Whatever you feel is enough,'" Shaw muttered out loud. "That's why I can't be with her, Finch. She'd settle for me. So yeah, it's better she's moved on."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Yes." She shrugged.

"You care for her, do you not?"

Narrowing her eyes at him, she nodded.

Finch continued, "In your own way… and it's more than possible that's love enough for her as it is. As for settling, I don't believe that'd be the case at all. You're both fantastic individuals and I'd be hard-pressed to find a pair that's as strong a force as the two of you are together."

Staring at each other, Finch could see her processing the information, though her expression barely changed.

And then she asked, "So what do I do?"

Finch answered, "There's nothing you can do… except try get her back. While being respectful of her current relationship, of course."

Shaw scoffed. "Easier said than done."

"It always is, Ms. Shaw."


End file.
